


Names

by Gonshyk



Series: Children of tentacle monster [6]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 11:53:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4220676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gonshyk/pseuds/Gonshyk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inventory numbers can not be names for sparklings. Young creators found out about it only when faced with danger for them.<br/>Rodimus and Drift have 6 children, for now they just named by birth order: First, Second and etc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Names

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Имена](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/123636) by Rartana. 



Today was the day of the medical examination; Drift helped Magnus in the control room, and Rodimus had to carry all the children to the examination. For a start it was necessary to catch all of them; because Drift is not seeing, he adapted a large container with a lid and handle, the lid had enough small holes, and container was wide - than kids did not climb to each other. But now the two have grown quite functional manipulators, and the other four very good climbed on walls and wielded their pseudopaws.

“Come here, Third - or are you Sixth? “Rodimus was trying to catch many-eyed kid under the terminal. “Deuce?” Finally, kid responded and crawled on his hand in the hope of yummy; He of course has received a piece of the crystal, but was planted in a container, the lid of which was held by two powerful grips.

Rodimus thought that kids cannot remember the nickname. He could not mix them up, of course! From the container came: squeaking, hiss and claw’s clatter – no one liked examinations, even Rodimus, but it is better not to miss them - from Ratchet will not save any bazooka or a flamethrower!

In the corridors their appearance does not cause any reactions anymore, but the whisper was unpleasant, but Rodimus jerked his spoiler and proudly carried his offspring. This is his sparklings growing up, they became more interesting, they are clearly intelligent and everyone has personality; now he wouldn't give them up for anything - but Rodimus has different thoughts on education than Drift. Cyclonus slipped past him, but, unlike many, he greeted Capitan by the rules; austere jet calmly reacted to the emergence of that sparklings, and, in his opinion, Rodimus act, who took responsibility for the new sparks, worthy of respect, in what by all these sparks are not clothed.

Rodimus brought valuable container that has tugged his handles - yes, children have grown up, and the container almost has no space; seems to be the next time he will carry them in his altmode or better ask Nautica: children grown fond of her, fem like to spend time with them, they were not bored.

Ratchet glumly pointed to the platform.

“One by one, and you better watch them! “ Medic loomed over the container and sparklings silently huddled in a pile. Last time, First climbed into the control panel of stationary scanner and short-circuit it... Ratchet was very angry.

This time, Ratchet examines them in a separate block, display all that was known about the race that spawned creature that multiplied at the expense of Drift. Glancing at the little one, he decided not to challenge that Rodimus is relevant, now was useless – First was waving his “wings” located on the back that now more formalized in the spoiler.

Medic launched scanner in test mode and prepared tubes for collecting of liquids and an injector; in container fell dead silence. Rodimus instantly blocked the view of the dreadful instruments - alas, the container is not soundproof, by one yelling they are incapable, but at once - it's like an alarm.

“Well, let's start.” Ratchet received from the hands of Rodimus melancholic xeno with three eyes in a row, “Second,” Rodimus identified.

Alas, in organics Ratchet was not good, even if it is not proteinaceous, and with a fair amount of cybertronium in the tissues, he had to call Perceptor. Scientist quietly entered and brought datapads with the new data, but following him, Brainstorm noisy climbed through; kick him out - it was so many problems that Ratchet grimaced, but allowed him to remain, threatened him with a wrench.

Brainstorm immediately pressed his mask to the transparent wall of the container, while Rodimus twisted in his hands Second, medic and scientist took off parameters and rechecking them on the architecture table of development.

Second squeaked quietly, trying to slip out, but Rodimus already knew all the habits of his offspring, and did not allow him to do so. Ratchet loaded injector, it was necessary to pierce kids against potential techno and organic viruses. Second flat on the palms of Rodimus, with his pseudopaws, but Ratchet could introduce him to all necessary preparations, and Perceptor previously had to take samples of liquids.

The rest of sparks in container start making faces to jet, which giggled and was touched by it.

“What are the interesting objects for the study!”

“Hold, they are not objects, they are sparks,” Rodimus snorted and handed Second, who looked around with tortured optics: he felt himself bad after all the procedures, but at Brainstorm he looked curiously with all three eyes; in answer stared back with equal curiosity.

Rodimus caught two tehnoorganiks; with them, of course, situation was better, but to introduce anti-virus... Rodimus thought that he will not stop them, he was bitten in three places, and if First was spanked for it, Fifth assumed a woeful little face and was just released in a container. Slag, growing a copy of Drift, even hips began to take shape as well.

Remains three xeno in which Rodimus got confused - someone of them had very-very sharp dents, and he should wear chain-mail glove to avoid the repair thin mechanisms of his arms.

“Third, my little bomb, go to the daddy,” alas, sparkling did not respond, Rodimus caught who first fell and paid for it with the bite; Primus praise, it was only the Fourth - he lively was pricked, measured and sent to the others. Captain pulled the glove and began to catch the other two; teeth of Sixth’s stuck in weaving of the glove that Rodimus used, fished him outward and hold by the scruff, while there were treatments. With the latest spark everything was simpler; lubber gorged and slept just jerked his pseudopaw when he was pricked.

Ratchet vent with relieve, gulped down a cube of midgrade and pointed Rodimus out.

“Description I will give Drift later. Brainstorm! Give spark back!”  
Frightened scientist almost dropped kid; sighing heavily, he returned Second in a container - the sadness of parting was mutual.

“Do not worry, I'll come to visit,” promised mech and Rodimus slyly narrowed optics.

“Help me get them back into the cabin, there you will communicate more,” red racer realized whom he could deliver sparks to babysit, and finally to assume hisrightful captain's chair.

And of course, Brainstorm agreed, picked up the container, went behind the captain.  
***  
Drift knew who benefit from the diversion on the ship - Galactic Council will not leave them alone. Lost Light's overheated engines, oil was partially evaporated, the atmosphere was wet to the disgrace - mechs only had time to change filters, but eliminated the accident. Drift was there all the time; his active paint was crumbled in ashes from the heat in some places. When the accident was liquidated, and Magnus took up a detailed understanding of the causes, Drift burst into his cabin.  
With joyful squeak all of six swarms him, even Second jumped on him from Brainstorm’s arms.

“Hey, why are you? I am also glad to see you, get down, well, mom is dirty,” Drift to tear them off; the magnets in their housings have been very good. Rodimus arrived, but without Brainstorm who guessed to hit Drift’s armor with static - magnets have ceased to operate, and with dissatisfied squeal sparklings fallen off.

“They missed me,” stated Drift, who does not even swear in the presence in cabin of Brainstorm and just crawled into the wash racks – wash mill scale and clean out precipitated oil from filters, slag with him.


End file.
